We continue to tangle around each other, ignoring Hendrix, who is circling impatiently around us. I’m not the type of girl who needs protection and affection from a man. Usually if I need something, I take it from them, but things feel different with Casen. His arms feel safe, he feels safe. It’s a strange, overwhelming feeling for me. I don’t let men in, but I’m sensing neither of us wants to let go.
“I’m not sure we’ll catch any fish, sparky, but do you want to try anyways?” he whispers in my ear. His breath is warm on my neck and sends shivers down my body. His questions feel like more than a simple inquiry about fishing. Maybe I want him to be asking me more than about fishing. I want to be strong enough to answer both, but I don’t know if I am. I’ve never needed a knight in shining armor, I’ve never wanted one. Casen, though, makes me want something I’ve never had…a relationship, prince and all. Instead of telling him all this, I choose the coward’s path and merely nod into his neck.
Slowly, he finally releases me, allowing my body to slide down his. I notice every one of his taut muscles on my way down, and I enjoy the sensation it delivers to my system. This man is doing wicked things to me, and I don’t know if I can resist the temptation much longer. He has been dangling himself in front of me since the night in the parking lot of the brewery, but has resisted any of my reciprocated flirtations. He insists it would make the tour uncomfortable and unprofessional if we dove into any kind of relationship, even if it was purely physical. I’m sure he’s right, but damn he makes it hard. Even after the tour is over, I’m not sure I can let myself explore those options. Besides the physical attraction I know we share, I’m afraid of the things he would do to my heart if I let him in…a heart I have never allowed anyone to even come close to.
“Come on, sparkplug, let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into,” he says as he guides my feet to the ground. He grabs the fishing poles and tackle box he dropped when I mauled him and turns to find the perfect fishing spot, leaving me awestruck once again.
It’s not until I register Hendrix gnawing on my sweatshirt, pulling me in the direction of Casen that I snap out of my daydream. “Stop it, Gigantor,” I tell him, lightly swatting at him and pushing him away from chewing on my shirt. “You know, I think we would get along better if you didn’t like me so much. The feeling isn’t exactly mutual,” I add.
I quickly catch up to Casen and reach him just as he begins to impale a worm with the hook on the end of his fishing line. “That is so fucking disgusting, I thought we were using bait,” I say as he casts the line out into the lake.
“This is bait, Jen. I brought lots of different kinds; I just thought we would start with worms.” He turns his attention to me, no doubt noticing the repulsed look on my face. “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. Just wait until you gut the fish we catch, then I’ll let you complain.” He chuckles to himself and wedges the pole between some rocks before picking up the other pole to hand to me. “Here, let’s get your pole situated and then we can relax a little.”
Gathering my courage, I pick up the small, plastic container of the slimy little creatures, but immediately my stomach twists and turns at the sight of them weaving around each other. They continue their attempt to burrow into their artificial environment; it’s like they sense any second I’ll select one of them to sacrifice to the fishing gods. Unfortunately, none jump out to offer themselves as tribute so I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and shove my hand into the container. I want to wuss out. I want to throw the container of worms in the dirt and tell Casen to go fuck himself. I can feel his eyes on me, and I know he’s silently daring me to do just that. I refuse to lose this game.
“I can do this. I can do this,” I quietly mumble to myself as the slippery little things slither around my fingers. As quickly as I can, I pull out the plump winner and brush off the stragglers, which have stuck to my hand. “Here, stick him on the hook,” I tell Casen, shoving my wormy hand in his face.
“You’re doing a fine job, go ahead and stick him on,” he says, earning him the crustiest expression I can muster.
“You’re an ass,” I announce as I swipe the pole from his hands. I thought my worm selection would be enough for him, but apparently, I have to completely backwoods it to earn my Boy Scout badge. Squeezing the fishing pole between my knees to hold it still, I carefully grab the line and hold the hook as steady as possible. Casen obviously thinks I’m some rich priss who can’t hold her own. I see this as the best opportunity to show him he’s dead wrong about me.
I’ve never needed anyone’s approval, never, but for some reason I can’t explain, I desperately want Casen to see me as something special. I want him to want me, not because I may be an attractive challenge or because he thinks I have mad naked-time skills, but because he sees me as a beautiful seashell in a beach full of rocks. Something he wants to put in his pocket and hold dear. I’m not sure where these touchy-feely inclinations are coming from, but they’re starting to piss me off.
“I can do it, Jen,” Casen says reaching for the pole. “If you hold that worm any longer, I’m afraid you’re going to name it and take it home as a pet,” he jests, noticing my delay and reaching further for the hook.
I immediately pull away from him. “Back off, Captain America. I was just deciding how to jab him so he’ll stay on the hook,” I lie. Casen holds his hands in surrender and backs away to provide the space I need for this disgustingly monumental task.
It’s like threading a needle, I tell myself. This little guy will net me a big honkin’ fish which will be way better than anything Casen can even attempt to catch. Once my mind turns this obstacle into a competitive challenge, my rolling stomach settles and I’m able to focus. Squeezing the meatiest part I can find on him, I follow through with guiding the hook through his wiggly body. I almost dry heave, almost…my pride holds it at bay, but just barely.
Casen slaps me on the back laughing at my gusto. “Well done, sparky. I wasn’t sure if you had it in you.” He takes the rod from me, casts it into the water along with his, and lays a blanket on the shoreline for us to sit on as we wait for dinner to come to us.
“Yeah, well, when my Maximus the Mighty brings in the bigger fish today, you’ll be sorry you ever doubted me,” I explain as I take a seat on the quilted blanket. Henri lies down next to me, resting his head so close I can feel his hot breath on my leg.
“I knew you would name that worm,” Casen chuckles as he sits down.
“I thought if he was going to be executed by racking and eaten by the largest fish in this lake, I should at least give him a name. Maximus seemed like the perfect name for a fishing champion.” I straighten my back as I explain my path to victory, which rests solely on my selection of a creepy crawly from a plastic container.
“If we are going to make this a competition, I think a friendly wager is in order,” he suggests, a smug smile gracing his beautiful face.
I’m used to “friendly wagers” with men; they usually end with someone naked and thoroughly satisfied. In fact, I’m usually the one who extends the challenge. This bet feels different though. By accepting, I may lose more than my panties, and I’m not sure I’m willing to risk more than my current Hanes Her Way specials. As safe as I feel with Casen, there is danger there. He has the power to be everything I never thought I would want, as well as the power to crush what’s left of me. To let him in would be risking myself. The opportunity to drown in him is enticing, though. As carefree as he comes off, I know there is more there. He’s hiding just as much as I am.
“What are you suggesting?” I ask, offering a hint of a smile.
“I want a story,” he leans into me and whispers.